


The High Life

by karasunovolleygays



Series: Valentine's Kisses 2020 [7]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Arranged Marriage, F/M, Feudal AU, Implied Violence, Pirate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-20 10:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22182343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasunovolleygays/pseuds/karasunovolleygays
Summary: Lady Shimizu Kiyoko is set to marry a man from some distant land she's never met, and Master of Arms (no pun intended) Iwaizumi Hajime is charged with escorting her to meet her soon-to-be husband, despite the lingering crush he's harbored for her since he was young. However, en route, a bizarre pirate by the name of Oikawa Tooru knocks that plan off track as a means to his own ends.Will Kiyoko make it to her betrothed, and is Hajime able to make himself let her go?
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Shimizu Kiyoko
Series: Valentine's Kisses 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589239
Comments: 7
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Crows_Imagine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crows_Imagine/gifts).



> This was written for my 2020 Valentine's Kisses Day 8-10: Laying a gentle kiss to the back of the other’s hand.

The clash of steel echoes in the tiltyard as Iwaizumi Hajime, master of arms for the House of Shimizu, parries a deceptively strong blow from Lord Shimizu’s daughter, Kiyoko. “Nice power, Kiyoko-sama. Just make sure you keep the blade level with the arc of your swing.”

Kiyoko nods while dashing sweat from her brow on her sleeve. “I’ll try, Iwaizumi-kun.”

Hajime grunts his approval. “If you’re swinging a sword, you want to do damage as quickly as possible, so smacking them with the broad side of the blade won’t help you.”

“I understand.” 

With that, they resume their educational sparring, each swing of Kiyoko’s sword churning apprehension in his gut. He actually enjoys training with her - she is an apt pupil and plenty athletic enough for swordsmanship - but the circumstances involving it are a damnation on Lord Shimizu and the aristocracy in general.

For years, rival lords have ravaged the land with their brutal feuds, and without fail, the people who pay the price are the peasants conscripted to fight, as well as the wives and daughters taken as spoils of war. Yet even in peace, they are not safe from these distant overlords’ whims. 

An armistice has finally been brokered between the House of Shimizu and the House of Yahaba, but this time, the cost of this ceasefire is Lady Kiyoko herself. In three weeks, Kiyoko will be shipped to the other side of the country as a bargaining chip, ordered to marry the Lord Yahaba’s youngest son Shigeru, a man she has never met. 

The road to Lord Yahaba’s territory is rife with brigands and thieves, the population in the area decimated by ongoing battles and compelled to do such things simply to survive. Worse, however, is the destination itself. If the atmosphere of distrust between Lord Shimizu’s retainers and their former enemy is any indication, Lord Yahaba’s house will not be a safe place for Kiyoko to be.

About a month ago, Kiyoko’s handmaiden Hitoka had approached him, entire body quaking with fear, asking him if he could help her protect herself in that hostile environment. Her mouth hadn’t even closed before he agreed, white hot rage flaring in his chest at the sweet, quiet girl he had grown up with being sold off like livestock.

His eyes bulge as the exact part of the blade he had instructed Kiyoko to use hits his upper arm. 

“I’m sorry!” Kiyoko hides her face in her hands. “I didn’t think you’d let me hit you.”

Torn between irritation at himself for letting his mind wander and gratitude they’re using blunted swords, Hajime rubs his arm through the sleeve of his rough leather armor and winces. “Hitting me is the point. You don’t need to apologize for that.”

When she makes no effort to withdraw the hands shielding her features, Hajime gently grips her wrist and pries her palms away. “You’re a noble lady, Kiyoko-sama. You hide from no one, you apologize to no one.” He chuckles. “Least of all me.”

Pink blooms on her cheeks, and she ducks her shoulders sheepishly. “I don’t have that luxury anymore.”

The tip of Hajime’s sword plunges into the hard backed earth at his feet and he scowls. “It’s not right, my lady. You belong here, not on the other side of the country surrounded by strangers.”

“It is what it is.” Kiyoko sighs and raises her sword. “Shall we?”

Hajime bites back any further remarks, the subject dismissed by Kiyoko under no uncertain terms, so he delves back into the slice of reality that makes the most sense to him. 

Every morning leading up to her journey, Hajime teaches Kiyoko various forms of defensive combat. She seems to be a natural at wielding a dagger, but even her mounting confidence doesn’t ease the knot of apprehension that coils even tighter as her departure date draws near. 

The morning before Kiyoko’s entourage is set to leave, Hajime and her wheel around the tiltyard, swords slashing through the air in earnest. Her movements are sharp and efficient. Hajime can’t help but think that if she were one of the soldiers he trains, she might be a star pupil. 

When their session wraps up, Kiyoko lingers in the yard, fingers flexing on the hilt of her sword. “Iwaizumi-kun, I want you to know that I appreciate all of your help, and I’ll miss you.”

“I —” Heat rushes to his cheeks. “You’re welcome, my lady. This place won’t be the same without you.”

Kiyoko reaches out and clasps his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Please don’t worry about me. Hitoka-chan does enough of that for a lifetime.” She peels off his weathered glove and brushes a kiss to the back of his hand. “Don’t forget me.”

Hajime drops to one knee and bows his head. “I couldn’t if I tried, my lady.”

He lingers long after Lady Shimizu’s maids whisk Kiyoko away to prepare for her journey, his sword the only thing holding him up. Each time he tries to push to his feet, his legs refuse to comply. A weight crushes him back in place as he stares at the hand Kiyoko’s lips had touched.

She’s leaving — _really_ leaving. Ever since he had been a young man running errands through the house, Kiyoko has been a staple of his daily routine. She would say hello when he walked by the window seat where she had spent so much time reading. He would blush and so would she, but the rest of his day always seemed to go by faster the sun shone a little bit brighter.

Resolve carries him to the main house and to Lord Shimizu’s den. Hajime bows to Shimizu. “My lord, might I make a request?”

Shimizu raises a brow and waves Hajime off with a flip of the hand. “I’m busy, young man. Maybe tomorrow.”

“No.” Hajime straightens and squares his shoulders. “This can’t wait, sir.”

A flash of irritation passes across Shimizu’s face, but it’s gone almost as quickly as it comes. “Very well. What is so important that you absolutely cannot wait?”

“I want to lead Kiyoko-sama’s guard detail.” The leaden weight pressing against his chest eases as the words rush out. “The roads aren’t safe. She needs the best men we have to protect her, and that’s me.”

Eyes narrowing, Shimizu eyes Hajime for a long, terse minute. “Very well.” He rises from his chair and crosses his arms. “Don’t think I don’t know why you want to go. Just know that if my daughter doesn’t arrive at Lord Yahaba’s keep to fulfill her duty, there will be no sword on this earth that will protect _you_.”

Hajime has faced off against warriors twice his size with enough musculature to tear him in half bare handed, but the steel laced through Shimizu’s voice sends a shiver up his spine. “I assure you, my lord, Kiyoko-sama will arrive safely.”

“See that she does.” Shimizu turns away, and Hajime sees himself out. 

When he reaches his small apartment in the loft above the armory, Hajime sprawls out on his straw tick bed and splays his arms wide. “That’s it. I’m completely insane.”

A cold wet nose prods his cheek, and Hajime ruffles his dog Kuma’s ears. “Hey, boy. We’re going on a trip tomorrow.”

Kuma settles against Hajime’s side and laps at his knuckles, and Hajime idly strokes Kuma’s thick fur. “Why am I such an idiot, Kuma? I just want to protect her, and now he thinks I’m in love with her or something.”

Doleful eyes stare him down, and Hajime harrumphs. “Okay, so maybe I am a little. That doesn’t mean I’m going to steal her and head for the hills.”

He trains his eyes on the ceiling until they drift closed, the back of his hand still tingling with the memory of Kiyoko’s lips.

A knock on the door shakes him awake, and his hand races to the hilt of his dagger before he even finds his feet. Shaking his head, Hajime stows it and sighs. “I’m on edge and we haven’t even left yet.”

Hajime slides his door open and reels when he sees Kiyoko on the other side. “Kiyoko-sama!” Dropping into a bow, he tramples his previous thoughts down before straightening back up. “How can I help you, my lady?”

Kiyoko throws her arms around him and nuzzles his shoulder. “Thank you for going with me.”

Hoping she can’t hear his heart thump in his chest, Hajime gingerly returns her embrace. “I would do anything for you, Kiyoko-sama. You know that.”

He’s touching her. He’s really touching Kiyoko. It isn’t some poke or prod to put her elbow in the right place as she wields a weapon; her fingers clutch his hips with an iron grip, and her gleaming black locks brush against the open collar of his simple linen shirt.

Hajime strokes her hair and squelches the urge to charge into the main house to fight for Kiyoko’s freedom from this sentence inflicted upon her for the sake of a few lines on a map. “I wish there was something I could do to take this burden from you.”

“You already have.” 

Finally, she drops her hands away and takes a deep breath. “I want to give you something — something I wanted to give you a long time ago but was too afraid to.” 

Hajime’s eyes widen when Kiyoko’s mouth meets his, but human nature soon kicks in and he throws himself into it. Gently cupping Kiyoko’s soft cheeks, years’ worth of distant longing pours out of him.

Breathless, their foreheads rest together, and Hajime can feel Kiyoko’s smile against his lips. 

“I didn’t want my first kiss to be with someone who doesn’t love me.”

He reels back, gawking at Kiyoko as not only the words she had said sink in, but their meaning, as well. “How did you —”

“How could I not?” Her newly callused hands take his work-roughened ones and give them a gentle squeeze. “It’s the only thing that will keep me going in such a hostile place.”

The backs of his heels bump into his bed, and he lands on it with a graceless thump. “If it’s my love that you want, my lady, then it is yours.”

“And mine will always be yours, dear Hajime.”

His name on her tongue sends a shiver of delight through him from head to toe. Next to him, Kuma wags his tail in glee when Kiyoko scratches behind his ears. “We have a long journey ahead of us. I’ll leave you to your rest.”

With that, Hajime is alone again, save for the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in his head. Kiyoko loves him. Why, he has no idea, but she does and it raises quite a question:

How is he supposed to let her go now?

The sun has barely started creeping up from the horizon when Hajime saddles his horse. The bustle of a journey almost underway fills the courtyard. When all is prepared, Kiyoko exits her father’s house, perhaps for the last time, and she doesn’t look back. Chin high, back straight, she strides toward her own mount and climbs into the saddle effortlessly. 

Hajime can’t stop looking at her. Her hair is bound into a plain bun, highlighting the proud jut of her chin. From the neck down, she is encased in a shirt and breeches covered with tooled leather armor. The lack of skirt volume reveals the shapely build of her legs, and a sheathed sword glints in the light of the brand new day. 

It’s a blade he knows well; after all, he had made it for her. Light for speed and stamina, narrow to pierce any kind of armor, and sharp enough to fell a young tree in one pass.

When Kiyoko spots him, she smiles, directing her horse over next to his. “I trust you slept well, Iwaizumi-kun.”

“Yes, my lady,” he lies, unwilling to admit out loud that he had spent a majority of his night replaying the heady feeling of her lips on his, her hands on his body, her breath ragged from being well kissed. However, he suspects she knows that already.

Soon the entourage takes off, Kuma happily trotting along next to him, and the road is clear of danger for most of the way through Lord Shimizu’s territory. Hajime’s head is on a swivel, scanning the terrain for anything or anyone who might aim to harm Kiyoko.

Once they pass into the Neutral Lands, an unclaimed stretch of countryside ruled by no one to serve as a buffer between long-warring kingdoms, the atmosphere begins to change. The copse of trees is a little bit darker and the path less worn. 

“Stay close, my lady,” Hajime warns, and Kiyoko complies immediately, one hand on the reins and the other on the hilt of her sword. 

The hair on the back of his neck prickles in warning and Kuma growls before a band of brigands rush at them from behind the undergrowth. 

The tattered marauders hurl snakes at the feet of the horses leading the entourage, sending them bolting off in fear and quickly thinning their ranks, Hajime marks with chagrin. “On me!” he shouts, and right away, two riders help him shield Kiyoko from the oncoming horde.

Next to Kiyoko, Hitoka quakes with terror, curling up as small as can be behind her horse’s neck until Kiyoko hauls Hitoka from the saddle and into her own lap. Hajime lets out a relieved huff at having one less charge to protect.

His brothers in arms, Issei and Takahiro, sit poised with their weapons, ready to behead the first enemy who dares cross their paths. “For as long as any of us draw breath, none of them will touch Lady Kiyoko.”

“That’s a little dramatic, Iwaizumi. We’re not dead yet,” Takahiro jokes, drawing a chuckle from Issei. “I plan on protecting Kiyoko-sama AND living through this.”

Issei bobs his head in agreement. “Excellent idea. Now let’s fillet ourselves some bad guys.”

Three horses circle Kiyoko’s horse, and their riders’s swords slice into enemy flesh. Though the numbers greatly favor the attackers, superior skill and weaponry win out and chase the rest of them back into the woods.

Soon, the rest of the guardsmen return with placated steeds, and Hajime can finally sheath his blood-streaked sword and turn his attention back to Kiyoko. Her jaw is clenched tight, and Hitoka still trembles in her arms, face streaked with tears.

“Are you all right, my lady?” Kiyoko nods. “Hitoka-chan?” Her snotty sniffle belies the affirmative she manages to squeak out, but other than being three shades paler than she already had been, she doesn’t look too much the worse for wear. “As soon as we get out of this forest, we’ll set up camp for the night.”

“Thank you, Iwaizumi-kun.” Kiyoko thumbs the wet tracks away Hitoka’s cheeks and smiles. “Be strong, Hitoka. We’ll make it.”

The panic finally starts to melt out of Kiyoko’s handmaiden, and by the time the rest of their party is aback in formation and ready to press on, Hitoka is back onto her own horse and sitting up a little bit straighter.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s nearly dusk when they finally emerge from the woods, and Hajime is relieved to dismount and stand on steady ground again. He’s not the only one; Kiyoko’s legs wobble as well when she drops from her horse.

Her hand wraps around his forearm, but she averts her eyes with a blush. “I don’t know how else to say this, but I need to, um . . .”

Hajime’s brows knit until he sees her knees squeezed together. “Oh. Right.” Why it catches him off guard, he doesn’t know. Everyone pees, including great lords’ beautiful daughters. “Come with me.”

He leads Kiyoko and Hitoka behind a nearby grassy knoll and stands facing away as the sound of garments shuffling starts and ends behind him. Finally, Kiyoko taps his shoulder. “We’re done. Thank you, Iwaizumi-kun.”

Fighting off a pang of longing to hear her say his given name once more, Hajime corrals the ladies back to the campsite. After a dinner of dried meat and hastily prepared vegetables, the entourage begins to turn in for the night.

Outside the entrance to Kiyoko’s tent, Hajime drops his bedroll and gets whatever sleep he can until it’s his turn to stand watch after Issei and Takahiro finish theirs. Kuma curls up inside the tent with the ladies as both a calming companion and a last line of defense.

He’s shaken awake — not by one of his comrades, but by Kiyoko. “Do you need something, my lady?”

“I have a bad feeling, Hajime. Something isn’t right.”

On his feet in an instant, Hajime eyes the perimeter of the camp. The pre-dawn darkness is at its thickest, and the fire has dwindled down to barely glowing coals. It looks exactly what he expects it would at this time of the night, but he can’t deny that niggling feeling that Kiyoko is right and that something is amiss.

His sword bats away the arrow right before it speeds toward his chest. “To arms!” Hajime shouts, and the rest of the camp bursts to life with half-dressed guards clambering to their posts. 

“Arm yourself,” he hisses over his shoulder, and the rasp of a blade coming from its scabbard instantly follows.

The rush of invaders is smaller this time, but under the cloak of night, they’re almost impossible to track. Every swing of Hajime’s sword deflects some sort of attack, and it doesn’t stop moving for an instant. His nerves prickle at the sound of Kiyoko’s sword being put to use, but he is confident her newly earned skills will hold her in good stead against an average swordsman.

Troops from both sides now litter the grass, thrown into shadow by the slowly rising sun. Hajime is relieved to note that Kiyoko is still unharmed, her role in the fray reduced as their attackers grow weary and years of intense training give her guard detail the upper hand.

The battle winds down, but Hajime can’t shake the feeling that it’s far from over. His suspicions take the form of a lone rider sprinting toward them, and before he can pull her out of the way, the rider barely breaks his stride when he scoops Kiyoko up onto the front of his saddle. 

Kiyoko’s sword is swatted from her hands, and she thrashes against her captor, but he easily overpowers her. His heart pounds with a deafening drumbeat in his ears, and for a moment, he forgets how to breathe.

Some maniac has Kiyoko in his clutches, and said maniac is getting away.

Every other thought forgotten, Hajime dashes toward their stand of horses. He mounts the first one with a saddle on it and speeds after them. Kiyoko’s abductor is heading for the woods, and Hajime knows he has to catch up before that or he’ll never find them. In the murky, overgrown forest, a stranger to the territory would lose to a native of it every time.

They’re still in sight when Hajime breaks through the treeline, but the rough terrain slows his horse down significantly, and his mark slowly dwindles in the distance. 

Something stirs behind him, but when he sees who is on his tail, he grins. Kuma barrels over the uneven trail as fast as his long, lean legs will take him.

“Go find Kiyoko, boy,” Hajime orders once Kuma is within earshot, already falling behind Kuma’s brisk pace but not stopping for a moment.

Hajime hears a commotion up ahead. When he can see who and what it is, he tugs the horse to a halt and dismounts before the earth even stops moving beneath him, running into the scene. 

Kiyoko’s kidnapper flails on the ground with Kuma’s jaw clenched firmly around his leg and Kiyoko standing over him with his own sword pointed at his throat. Hajime kneels next to the man, who wears a black half mask, and punches him in the temple with all his might.

The struggles cease immediately, and the assailant’s limbs fall limp in the dirt. Hajime looks up at Kiyoko, whose chest heaves from effort and fear. He regains his feet and pulls the sword from the man’s neck, and Kiyoko let it drop next to her. 

“You’re all right,” Hajime murmurs as she flings her arms around his waist and buries her face against his shoulder. His free hand draws her near, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Remind me to get the biggest bone I can find from the butcher for Kuma.”

Kiyoko chuckles against his skin and clings to him tighter. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Kuma noses his way between them, panting from the massive effort but his tail wagging happily nonetheless. “Good boy, Kuma. You’ve saved me a few times, but nothing will ever compare to this.” 

Relinquishing her hold on Hajime, Kiyoko kneels down to pay homage to her true savior, as well. Kuma rolls onto his back, letting her stroke his soft belly fur. “Thank you, Kuma-san. You’re brave and loyal, just like Hajime.” Her hand stills. “Take care of him for me.”

Her words are a sharp reminder that they will be parting ways far sooner than he’s ready for.

“We should head back,” Hajime says, ready to put his previous thoughts to bed if only for a little while. “Are you okay to ride?”

“Of course.” Kiyoko stretches her limbs, wincing as she rolls her shoulders. “What do we do about him?” She nudges her would be kidnapper with the toe of her boot.

Hajime’s lip curls down in disgust. “Take him with us. One way or another, he’s telling me who sent him.” The man at his feet twitches with life, and Hajime’s frown deepens. “He held his sword with his right hand, didn’t he?” Kiyoko nods. “Good.”

With that, Hajime slams the heel of his boot down on the attacker’s right hand, the bones snapping underfoot with an ugly crunch. “I can’t take any more chances.”

“I understand.” Kiyoko picks the sword back up and heads for the horse Hajime had ridden. “I’m curious, did you plan to take my horse or did it just work out that way?”

Looking properly at the mount for the first time since Kiyoko had been snatched, Hajime chortles. “I had no idea. She was there.”

“Good girl.” 

Kiyoko ruffles her horse’s mane, earning a whinny of delight, and Hajime’s entire chest aches at the sight. Her kindness and care has always extended to man and beast alike, regarding all around her with respect no matter their station (or species). And this kind woman is about to be shipped off to marry a stranger.

“Let’s go,” Hajime chokes, slinging his limp prisoner over his shoulder and then across the front of the saddle of his own horse. It gives him something to think about other than riding away from Yahaba territory alone. “We need to go back.”

Hajime’s foot is halfway into the stirrup when more masked men pour from the shadows and surround them, swords and spears and pikes trapping them in a tight circle. A particularly large man corrals Hajime near Kiyoko with a pike tip that is definitely stained with blood. “Move.”

He complies, his hand gripping Kiyoko’s as soon as they are pushed back to back. The horses are dragged away, leaving only Kuma in the ring to assist with an escape — one which will likely get them all killed.

“Stay,” Hajime orders under his breath, and Kuma’s growling ceases almost immediately. Louder, he addresses the hulking man looming over him. “Who are you, and what do you want?”

The man doesn’t answer, but a voice approaching from the east does. “Oh, it looks like I got a bonus.”

Brown hair tufts out around a crown carved from wood, sat upon the brow of who Hajime assumes is the most annoying man alive. His cloak is made of various animal pelts, and jewelry made of bone hangs from his neck, ears, and waist. “I wonder what I’m going to do with you.”

“Please let him go,” Kiyoko interjects before Hajime can fire off a scathing retort. “If it’s me you want, I’ll come willingly if you set him free.”

Bone King swaggers over to her and pushes her chin up to meet her unwavering gaze. “I do apologize, my lady, but I’m afraid that just isn’t possible.” He sticks his tongue out at Hajime. “He broke Yuu-chan’s hand, and I can’t let him get away with that.”

“Then tell me what you  _ do _ want,” Kiyoko said flatly, chin jutting out defiantly. “If you’re going to kill me, then do it. I’ve had men making decisions for me my entire life. What’s one more?”

Bone King shakes his head. “You misunderstand me, my lady. I’m not going to kill you. I’m going to take you mostly for future considerations.” He crooks his fingers, and his men bind Hajime and Kiyoko together back to back and heft them onto the back of Kiyoko’s horse. 

Kuma barks, ready to launch himself at any and all of the Bone King’s men, but that ends immediately when Hajime says, “No, Kuma.” Their captor may not kill the two of them yet, but how he feels about doing so to animals is dubious at best, considering the number of pelts making up his cloak.

Hajime watches Kuma struggle to keep still as the two of them are led away.

A few hours later, the trees thin out into craggy bluffs, the sound of the ocean loud and the smell of it sharp. Hajime spies a weathered cutter anchored near the shore, and now he knows exactly who has them in his grasp. “Oikawa Tooru.”

“That’s King Tooru to you, love.” Tooru unsheaths a dagger and pats Hajime’s cheek with it after his men pull them off the saddle. “I see my reputation precedes me.”

“That’s the least stupid thing you’ve said since I met you,” Hajime snaps. Tooru should not be getting under his skin so easily, but he is nonetheless. “Do you really think you can claim the Neutral Lands if you marry yourself to Lord Shimizu’s daughter?”

He hears Kiyoko gasp behind him. “Kiyoko-sama, meet the Would Be King. He and his little band of pirates terrorize the entire coast, hoping the great lords will give him the Neutral Lands just to make him stop.”

“I am a real king!” Tooru harrumphs. “You’re just jealous.”

“Absolutely not.”

Crossing his arms, Tooru sticks his nose in the air. “You’re the rudest peasant I’ve ever met. I would have you beheaded if it wouldn’t distress Lady Shimizu so much.”

Hajime feels Kiyoko’s hands flex against his to quell her irritation, something he recalls from years of observation. He admires her decorum and how it far outstrips his own, especially her even tone when she says, “You said future considerations. Explain.”

Tooru rubs his hands together. “This is the fun part. You’ll be my guest for a while, and once I get what I want, you’re free to go.”

“Then what is it you want?”

“Your cranky little manservant is partially right.” Tooru’s grin spreads, and Hajime bites back the urge to lunge at him. “I do want the Neutral Lands. When your father and your would-be husband agree to leave my sovereignty uncontested, you’ll be on your way.”

Kiyoko laughs, and Hajime isn’t the only one surprised by it. “You actually think my father cares enough about what happens to me to give you whatever you want? I’m not that important, Oikawa-san.”

“Oh, I think you are.” Tooru pats her cheek and smiles wide. “Come, my lady. Be my guest for a while.”

“I don’t suppose if she says no, you’ll let us go,” Hajime grumbles, drawing a grating laugh from Tooru. “Didn’t think so.”

Fingers thread with his, and Kiyoko squeezes his hand. “We’ll be all right. I trust you, so now it’s time for you to trust me.”

A thread of resolve lances through Kiyoko’s voice, and Hajime doesn’t hesitate. “Always, my lady.”

The two of them acquiesce as they’re shepherded onto a small rowboat and carried out to meet the larger vessel. Hajime is situated across from the man whose hand he had crushed under his boot, who shoots him sullen glares every couple of minutes.

On board the ship, Kiyoko is released from her bindings, but Hajime is left with his hands tied. “It isn’t that I don’t trust you, love, but I really just can’t afford to.”

“Let him go immediately.” Kiyoko’s voice is as sharp as any blade. “Let him go or I’ll have you flung into the sea to rot.”

Tooru winces at her words, and Hajime is freed in seconds. “Very well, my lady. However, just know if he’s caught trying to escape or abscond with you, I will have to have him executed.”

“Say that to my face, you coward.”

Arms crossed, Tooru beams at him. “All right. If you try to go anywhere other than where I tell you, I’ll cut your head off myself and hang it off the yardarm.”

An unbidden burst of respect flares in Hajime, and he nods in agreement. “I go where Kiyoko-sama goes. If she’s here, then so am I. You have my word on that.”

“Excellent.” Tooru gestures broadly at the deck of his ship. “Well, you are my guests. My ship is your ship. Let’s find you some accommodations, my lady.” 

One of Tooru’s men, a tall and mean looking fellow called Ushijima, guides them into the bowels of the ship. He opens the door and gestures inside. “My lady.”

Kiyoko passes the threshold, but when Hajime moves to follow, a well muscled arm blocks the way. “Not you.”

“He goes where I go,” Kiyoko says flatly, and she stares down Ushijima, who is at least twice her size. “He stays. You’re dismissed.”

Ushijima nods and leaves, and Hajime adds the man to his mounting list of people to strangle. Once he closes the door behind him, he buries his face in his hands and melts against the wall. “I’m sorry, my lady. I was supposed to protect you, but instead I let you get kidnapped by the most ridiculous man alive.”

“Stop that.” Kiyoko sits on the edge of the dubious-looking bed and pats the space beside her. “I think we could both use some rest. You barely slept at all last night.”

It was disconcerting to think of the previous night as mere hours ago, rather than days, but Kiyoko is correct. He is certainly exhausted, and she probably is, as well. “Very well.” Hajime heads for the foot of the bed and sits on the floor. “Sleep well, my lady.”

“I would sleep much better if you were up here with me.” 

Hajime freezes at her words. It’s one thing to steal a kiss or two from a great lord’s daughter, but it’s another entirely to share a bed with her, no matter how innocent it may be. “That wouldn’t be appropriate, Kiyoko-sama.”

Her voice quavers when she whispers, “Please.”

On his feet in an instant, Hajime rushes over and kneels in front of her. “Are you all right, my lady?”

“I will be, but please, Hajime.” She rests her hand against his cheek and swallows hard. “I need you, my love.”

Hajime nods woodenly, his heart hammering in his chest at her words. To hear ‘my love’ leave her lips just for him is an amalgamation of every pleasant dream he’s had since he was fourteen. He knows he should still refuse, but Kiyoko could ask anything of him and he could not say no. “As you wish.”

Nodding, Kiyoko starts stripping her leather armor, and Hajime can barely spin away fast enough. “Forgive me.”

“For what? Surely you’ve seen a lady undress before.”

A frown of distaste mars his mood. “No, my lady. I have no taste for it because my heart has been claimed for years.”

Kiyoko chuckles. “Well, you’re going to have to learn, because I can’t get this buckle off.” 

“Oh.” Taking a deep breath, Hajime focuses on the myriad of clasps trapping Kiyoko’s limbs. Once she’s relieved of them, Hajime immediately averts his eyes from the shapely ankle resting in his palm. “I’ll polish it first thing tomorrow morning.”

She doesn’t answer, instead moving to coax loose the ties securing his own armor. “That’s no work for a lady, Kiyoko-sama. Please let me do that.”

“Nonsense.” Her hands don’t still, and with deftness equal to that of a seasoned warrior who lives in such garb, she relieves him of it. “Until we both get out of here, we do what needs to be done.”

Once the final piece is tucked along the wall of the tiny cabin, Kiyoko takes Hajime’s hand. “Shall we?” She climbs onto the far side of the bed, her back against the wall. 

Hajime carefully climbs in next to her, close to falling onto the floor to give her the most space. He yelps when she pulls him close to her. “I don’t bite.”

“I know, I —” Settling slightly farther from the edge, Hajime closes his eyes and allows the rigors of the past couple of days leach out of his tired body. “I am so tired.”

Kiyoko brushes a kiss to his lips. “Then sleep.”

It isn’t long before he drifts off with Kiyoko nestled at his side.


	3. Chapter 3

“Don’t twist your wrist, it’s unnecessary strain,” Hajime hisses between clenched teeth. 

Kiyoko nods and poises for another round of sparring. From the wheel, Tooru watches them raptly. Hajime had thought the novelty of a sword-wielding woman would have worn off by then, but he still lurks about during their daily practice time like a big stupid buzzard.

Tooru claps when Kiyoko manages to land a blow. “Wonderful work, my lady. It’s kind of you to humor your noisy peasant man and let him win a few.”

Hajime’s hands strangle the pommel of his sword, but the tension fades when Kiyoko swats at Tooru’s ankle with the flat of her blade. “He’s the best swordsman in Shimizu territory, Oikawa-san. If you don’t believe me, see for yourself.”

“My lady,” Hajime groans. “We really shouldn’t waste time on this bizarre troll. We should practice more.”

“Oh, we will, Iwaizumi-kun.” She takes a mighty swing that takes every instinct honed over several years for Hajime to deflect, the shock of the hit still tingling in his hands. His eyes widen, and Kiyoko chuckles. “I’m counting on you.”

Years of practice take hold, and their session continues. It isn’t until they take their meals back to the cabin that Hajime’s nerves finally wind down. “Can I get you anything, Kiyoko-sama?”

“No, thank you.” She sits on the floor, armor and all, and spoons simple fish stew into her mouth. Hajime joins her, but she puts down her bowl soon after and takes a deep breath. “I’ve decided what I’m going to do.”

Hajime quirks a brow. “Oh?”

“I don’t want to marry Lord Yahaba.”

A chunk of seaweed in his soup sticks the the back of his throat, sending Hajime into a fit of coughing. When he manages to draw a proper breath, he croaks, “You _what_?”

Kiyoko smiles and looks out the grubby porthole while a school of fish swim by. “Would you believe me if I told you I haven’t felt truly alive until I left home with you?”

Hajime pushes aside his own stew. Nothing else captures his attention more than how much he feels her words mirror his own thoughts. “How so, my lady?”

“For the first time in my life, I eat when I want to eat, I sleep when I want to sleep, I wear what I want to wear, and nobody is hovering over me dictating every single thing I do.” Kiyoko takes his hand and kisses his palm. “The only piece of home I want to keep with me is you.”

“Kiyoko-sama, I can’t —” Hajime runs his thumb over the ever hardening calluses on Kiyoko’s palm, a fitting reminder of how a beautiful noble lady had worked hard to become a warrior. With that, a lot of things become clearer, including that Kiyoko is right. 

He can’t ever remember her brimming with so much gusto for life, for anything at all. It’s everything he could possibly want for her, and they have found it here on the ocean with an absurd pirate and his ragtag crew. 

Hajime leans over their clasped hands and murmurs, “For as long as you need me, I will follow you anywhere.”

“Are you sure?” Kiyoko frames his face in her hands, and their foreheads rest against one another. “You’ve worked hard to make it where you are. I can’t ask you to give it up for me.”

A shard of impulse takes over him, and Hajime snares a lingering kiss. “You don’t have to ask. I’ve always been yours.”

“Hajime,” she breathes, and he feels her smile against his lips. “I don’t know how I earned your loyalty, but I’ll treasure it forever.”

Hajime closes his eyes and takes in the rush of well being filling him. While it’s obvious this ordeal has brought Kiyoko to life, he is hard-pressed to deny that it hasn’t done the same for him. 

“What do we need to do?”

A grin plasters itself on Kiyoko’s face. “We’re going to help Oikawa-san get his kingdom, and in return, he’s going to give us this ship.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” Life at sea is a difficult one, full of perils she has yet to experience. However, the idea of roaming the seas with the woman he loves holds an appeal he can’t easily dismiss. “If it is, then my sword is yours.”

Kiyoko presses one more kiss to his forehead. “Enough of that for now. We’re both starving.” She picks up her bowl and tucks back into her stew like she hasn’t just changed his entire life, so he does the only thing he can think of: follow suit.

The next morning during their usual sparring practice, their session is interrupted by the lookout in the crow’s nest bellowing, “Sails on the horizon!”

Tooru runs up to the railing, eyes wild with excitement. “Ooh, can it be our distinguished guest’s welcoming party?”

Hajime whistles loudly, and one of Tooru’s cabin boys barrels across the deck to hand him a spyglass. Training it on the far northeast, the spyglass comes into focus as Hajime adjusts it to monitor the horizon. “It’s them all right.”

Tooru snatches the spyglass and checks for himself. His frown deepens. “At least twenty ships running a blockade. It’s going to be fun getting by them.”

“Agreed.” Hajime steps back from the bow of the ship and crosses his arms, brows knit in thought. “Ideas?”

As the two of them discuss strategies to break through the Yahaba fleet blocking their approach to the northern shores, Kiyoko paces back and forth on the deck, her sword turning over in her hand. “We need to make it through or Yahaba-sama will never take you seriously.”

Hajime nods. “She’s right. If you can break through the Yahaba line and make it to shore, you can establish yourself as a legitimate military presence in the region, and to keep the peace, they might even give you what you want.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Tooru scratches at his chin and eyeballs the distant shoreline. “Maybe there’s a way to trick them into thinking we gave up.”

“Maybe there is.” Hajime’s eyes shift from Tooru to Kiyoko over and over until his idea falls into place. “Maybe you don’t need to get the whole boat through. Just a small contingent, or maybe just you.”

Tooru keens in, eyes alight with interest. “Go on.”

The plan unfurls, and the three of them decide their roles in changing the power dynamics throughout the region together.

An hour later, Tooru emerges from the lower decks wearing Kiyoko’s garb she had worn leaving House Shimizu. Kiyoko’s freshly shorn hair hangs from his head in a makeshift wig. 

Hajime doesn’t bother biting back a snicker. “I have no idea why I thought this was a good plan. No one’s going to think you’re a girl, Oikawa.”

Kiyoko waives off his naysaying, hands constantly reaching up to play with the bandana covering her shortened locks. “I think he’s a very pretty girl.”

“But he’s ten centimeters taller than you!” Hajime circles a preening Tooru once more. “And he walks like a stablehand.”

“I do not!” Tooru sticks his tongue out, and Wakatoshi rolls his eyes. “Not you, too, Ushiwaka-chan.”

“Stay still,” Wakatoshi grunts, streaking the burnt end of a stick across Tooru’s eyebrows to darken them. He frowns. “Something is still missing.”

Tooru pouts. “Yes, my patience with you.” 

“That’s it.” Wakatoshi wrenches Tooru close and kisses him silent while Hajime and Kiyoko gawk in surprise. He lets Tooru go with swollen pink lips and a deep blush. “Perfect.”

“Didn’t see that one coming.” Kiyoko nods, still in shock while Tooru heads for the railing with a marked sway to his hips, not batting an eye at the display. “Is anyone really going to buy this?”

Kiyoko harrumphs. “None of the Yahabas have seen me before, and he does look the part. Somewhat.”

“Well, he agreed to it, so it is what it is.” Hajime gestured toward the ladder leading down into the lower decks. “We should get out of sight.”

“Right.” 

They leave the upper deck to conceal themselves in the depths of the hold, with Wakatoshi rooted in place to take on Tooru’s role as captain and prospective king. From their hiding spot, Hajime can just barely hear what is happening on the deck. Kiyoko, who is curled into his side behind a large barrel with her sword at her feet, also strains to follow along.

It takes about twenty minutes for Lord Yahaba’s fleet to intercept their vessel. The clatter of boarding ropes being cast over the railing is soon followed by a cacophony of heavy footsteps on the upper deck. Hajime closes his eyes and funnels every ounce of his concentration on overhearing the events topside.

Both of them hold their breath when the footsteps stop.

“Who are you and what do you want?” comes Wakatoshi’s gravelly voice, imposing as ever. “State your business and leave.”

Hajime bites back a gasp when he hears someone familiar answer Wakatoshi’s gruff query. “I represent the House of Shimizu,” comes Takahiro’s voice. “You’re hereby commanded by the sovereign lord of these waters, Lord Yahaba, to submit to a search.”

“Damn,” he hisses. “They’ll know right away it isn’t you.”

Kiyoko sinks lower in his grip and hangs her head. “I know.”

“What is it that you seek?” Wakatoshi booms. “I have no quarrel with the Yahabas nor the Shimizus.”

Takahiro gives a brief account of Kiyoko’s abduction, which is strangely accurate considering the lack of information available after Hajime had ridden off after Tooru’s man on horseback. 

“Very well, but there’s no need to search.” Wakatoshi whistles sharply, and the sound of scuffling soon follows as Tooru’s rendition of Kiyoko is ‘dragged’ in front of Takahiro. “She’s right here. She tried to stow away.”

For once in his life, Tooru is silent and Hajime is grateful for the timing of it. If he keeps his head down and shoulders slumped and manages not to talk, his ruse might even go unnoticed. Takahiro isn’t an idiot by any definition of the word, but he doesn’t spend too much time looking at women, as his attentions are focused solely on Issei, his husband.

“Where is Iwaizumi?” Takahiro snaps, his voice sharp enough to cut for the first time as long as Hajime has known him. “He was with Kiyoko-sama. Tell me where he is.”

“Dead.” Hajime sighs at Wakatoshi’s flat answer, brooking no reason to question it. “Before we found her, we found him trying to steal food from the stores and I had him executed.”

The sound of scuffling soon follows, ending with a sharp, “Taka, enough!” from Issei. 

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t set fire to your ship right now?” Issei levels.

“Because I was well within my rights to do so and you know it. I have no interest in the woman, nor do I give a damn about your lords. Just take her and go.”

Swallowing hard, Hajime fights back a surge of nerves. Wakatoshi keeps ordering them to leave, which will naturally be the last thing two trained soldiers like Takahiro and Issei will want to do. It doesn’t stop him from hoping they’ll do so nonetheless.

The thud of Issei’s very large boots moves across the deck in the direction of Wakatoshi’s voice. “Oh, I’ll leave with the Lady Kiyoko, but I’m still going to look around. Something isn’t right here, and I’m going to find out what it is.”

Issei says something Hajime can’t make out, and the heavy footfalls head for the ladder to the lower decks. Hajime’s arms tighten around Kiyoko, and she returns the gesture. If any of the Shimizu soldiers find them, there will be no mistaking who is who. Every single one of them has sparred with Hajime more times than anyone can count, honing their skills with various combat methods over the years together. 

And the two Hajime has spent the most time with out of all of them are headed in his direction. Hajime’s hand tightens around the grip of his sword, and he waits.

The glow of a lantern in the distance trickles into the hold, visiting every corner of the room in painfully thorough fashion. The light grows inevitably brighter, bringing a mounting tide of dread along with it.


	4. Chapter 4

When the lamp light reaches them, the face Hajime sees hovering over their huddled is Takahiro’s, which twists in surprise when he recognizes them both.

With Takahiro dumbfounded, Hajime takes the opportunity. “Please, Taka. You never saw us.”

“Why did that giant bastard up there say you were dead,” Takahiro finally manages, “and who the hell is up there wearing Kiyoko-sama’s clothes?”

Kiyoko straightens and fixes Takahiro with a heavy gaze. Not the one wrought by years of noble upbringing, but the one forged on the tiltyard as she had fought to protect herself. “Hanamaki-kun, I can’t and won’t make you go back the way you came, but I will ask you just the same.”

The second lantern joints Takahiro’s, and Issei’s face pops over the other’s shoulder. “Well I knew something weird was going on. Just didn’t think it was this weird.”

“If anyone can understand this, the two of you will.” Hajime takes advantage of the light to pore over Kiyoko’s dust-streaked face. His sword stays put, instead using that hand to stroke her cheek. “I love her. I can’t watch her be trapped alone so far away. I’d die for her a thousand times, but what I truly want is to live for her.”

Kiyoko nods. “All I want is to disappear with Hajime. Think about how you might feel in my place before you decide.”

Issei and Takahiro look at each other, a quiet conversation taking place in that moment. Finally, Issei asks, “So, uh, what’s with the fake Kiyoko-sama up there?”

“He’s helping us,” Kiyoko says. “If we can get him onshore so he can make a case to claim the Neutral Lands, the two of us sail away with this ship and never look back.”

Takahiro bites his fist to stifle a laugh. “Well that’s about the craziest damn thing I’ve heard in my life. I assume they were the ones who hijacked her in the first place.” Hajime and Kiyoko nod. “Leverage, I imagine.”

“Yes.” Kiyoko harrumphs. “He overestimated my value to my father. He would let Oikawa-san kill me before he gave him anything.”

“Oikawa!” Issei’s lips furrow into a frown. “You mean to tell me that the would-be king managed to steal our charge right from under our noses? That thought just makes me want to peel my skin off.”

Hajime groans. “I know the feeling, but he’s all right in an extremely annoying kind of way.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Issei wrinkles his nose and scratches his chin in thought. “So, let’s say we deliver fake Kiyoko-sama to the Yahabas, what does he plan to do?”

“Does it matter?” Kiyoko interjects. She raises a brow at Takahiro and Issei. “If he succeeds, there will be an entire country between Shimizu and Yahaba territory, and Oikawa-kun isn’t about to let either of them push him around. It’s a better solution than me marrying Lord Shigeru.”

Takahiro and Issei exchange another conversation condensed into a single glance, and Takahiro nods. “Very well, my lady. Your plan has merit, and should it succeed, your lord father might even see fit to not behead us for bringing back the wrong Lady Kiyoko.”

Kiyoko vaults to her feet and throws her arms around each of them in turn. “I will not forget this.”

Issei flushes. “I hope this works for all our sakes.”

“So do I,” she murmurs, bowing to them. “I hate to ask one more favor from you, but if you can, would you let Hitoka-chan know I’m okay? I regret leaving her to worry like this.”

“Of course.” Takahiro grins and elbows Issei. “And when we get a chance, we’ll bring Kuma-chan to you, too.”

A knot of emotion wells up in Hajime’s throat for his comrades, for Kiyoko, for his loyal friend and companion. “I owe you both my life. Thank you.”

“Not like you haven’t saved our sorry asses a time or two yourself.” Scowling, Issei steps on Takahiro’s foot, and he amends, “Our backsides. Apologies for the rudeness, my lady.”

Kiyoko laughs and waves off his concern. “I’m certain I can learn to manage a few profanities if I’m going to live on a boat like this one. 

Hajime follows Kiyoko’s lead and embraces his brothers in arms. “I will miss you both.”

“You say that like we’ll never see you again.” Takahiro gives him a crooked grin. “If this all works out, you two might have a couple more crewmates.”

Nodding, Issei sighs. “We should go. Take care.”

“And to you.” With that, Hajime watches the two of them leave, and soon the sound of an all clear soaks through the opening to the hold. He takes Kiyoko’s hands and gives them a gentle squeeze. “No turning back now.”

“No turning back.”

Half an hour later, Wakatoshi calls down into the hold, “You can come out now.”

Once they make it onto the deck, Hajime inhales the salinated air, a marked improvement over their slightly mildewy corner of the hold. “I appreciate your help.”

“I serve my lord in all things.” But even as he says that, Wakatoshi looks over the railing and gazes in the direction of where the ships are rapidly shrinking on the horizon. 

Kiyoko stands next to him and covers larger hand with hers. “He’ll make it.”

“He will.” Wakatoshi’s fingers clench around the top of the rail until his knuckles are white. “That won’t keep me from worrying nonetheless.”

Kiyoko leans into his side, and Hajime watches in fascination as she shares a moment of empathy with his mountain of a man. “Every time I watched Hajime ride into battle, I told myself he would always come back and he did. I couldn’t afford to believe anything else.”

“I know the feeling.”

They grow silent, and Hajime feels like an intruder on Wakatoshi’s confession. An unbidden dart of worry runs through him at the thought of Tooru infiltrating a castle alone. The odds are astronomically against him and this scheme could likely get them all hanged, but for all their sakes, Hajime hopes those odds can be defeated.

Life aboard the ship returns to a remarkably normal routine, save for Wakatoshi issuing orders rather than Tooru. He is a capable commander, but his flair for innovation fall far short of Tooru’s. Problems and roadblocks are resolved with strength rather than finesse. 

To pass the time, Hajime and Wakatoshi spar, and Hajime relishes the challenge. He’s fought strong men and determined ones, but Wakatoshi’s hyper-focused will to win is a brand new animal to him. The wonderful strain of deflecting such a powerful opponent burns in his limbs

Days pass without a word, and Hajime is running low on motivation to continue working out with Wakatoshi. After the latest session, which ends with Wakatoshi on his back with the tip of Hajime’s blade at his throat, Hajime drops his sword and sits down next to Wakatoshi on the deck. 

“Eventually, you’re going to have to do something other than wear me out.” Wiping the sweat from his brow with his sleeve, Hajime sighs. “If you want to know how he is, you’ll have to figure out a way to find out before both of our arms fall off.”

Wakatoshi’s mouth draws into a thin line, and he makes no move to scrape himself off the deck. “I know. I’m thinking.”

“Good luck.” Hajime beckons to one of the sailors. “Oi, Kindaichi, come here.”

Having been relegated to light duty due to Hajime breaking his hand during Kiyoko’s abduction, Kindaichi Yuutarou snaps to attention whenever Hajime speaks. “Yes, Iwaizumi-san?”

“Hold out your hand.” Yuutarou offers it up as ordered, and Hajime examines the break carefully. “It’s healing well, and it looks like you stopped trying to use it this time.” Yuutarou nods. “Good. You should be able to start working it a little more in a few weeks. I’ll be waiting.”

The glint of challenge sparks in Yuutarou’s eyes. Right after they had arrived on the boat, a wounded Yuutarou had declared he would kill Hajime for breaking his hand. This had drawn a smile out of Hajime, and a reply of, “I’ll be ready when you are.”

He only hopes that all of them will live through this for Yuutarou to get his revenge.

It takes about a week, but word finally reaches them via a discreet visit to a seaside town of Tooru’s plight. Hajime doesn’t need to feign shock and awe as a drunk fisherman recounts the story of the younger Lord Yahaba’s newly wedded ‘wife’ leaving him tied naked to the bedposts and the elder Yahaba had awakened to a sword at his throat and a command of, “Let’s talk, shall we?”

Next to him, Kiyoko stifles a laugh. “I almost wish I’d been there.”

Hajime snickers, and the old man at the table with them definitely doesn’t understand the joke.

With that news under their belt, Hajime knows it’s time to make their move. Kiyoko returns to the boat to inform Wakatoshi of the update. As expected, she returns a few hours later with a plan and the biggest landing party the tiny craft could hold, including Wakatoshi.

“It’s time,” he says, eyes locking with hers, and after Wakatoshi and his men depart the rowboat, Hajime and Kiyoko go back to the ship. Only a few of the sailors remain, including Yuutarou, whose skills with a Go board are rapidly catching up to Hajime’s.

It takes less than a day for an update on Tooru’s infiltration. Lords Yahaba and Shimizu are meeting with Tooru at that very moment, working out a peaceful solution, with both sides already exhausted by years of prolonged conflict.

“I wonder if Oikawa-kun and Yahaba-kun got a divorce,” Kiyoko muses as they board the ship once again, this time with a crew of their own in tow.

Hajime snorts. “Somehow, I don’t think Ushijima much cares, and Oikawa probably doesn’t, either.”

Once aboard, they pull up anchor and set out for the open seas with their new crew — including Issei, Takahiro, Kuma, Hitoka, as well as Yuutarou, who had elected to remain with Hajime — to fish, to trade, and to  _ live. _


End file.
